The Struggle of Love (Translator: J.Jan)

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The Struggle of Love

(Translator: j.jan )

Chapter 1 The whole thing started when Dale moved out. My mom and Dale had been living together for a while, but eventually she had enough of his nonsense and kicked him out. I was glad he was gone; we'd never gotten along well, we basically lived in the same house and ignored each other. Seeing him gone made me very happy , and I wanted him to know I felt like I'd won, but I didn't say anything, and I stopped getting in his way. I thought he'd feel like he had nothing to lose now. I knew he'd been trying to get back at me for years, trying to cause me trouble, and I didn't want to give that away as a parting gift. Anyway, by Sunday night, all his shitty stuff was gone, and the first thing my mom did Monday morning was call a locksmith to change the locks. I went to school nervously for her, worried that when I got home that afternoon, he'd be back, and everything would be just like before. I was relieved to find he really wasn't home, and Mom was adamant about not regretting it. I asked Dale if he'd called, and she shook her head. Okay, I think… okay, goodbye. That evening, I bought a pizza, and we ate it in the living room while watching TV. Mom finally broke the silence, rambling on about how she hoped to accomplish what she wanted with the future, about Dale being gone, and so on. She apologized to me for letting Dale stay for so long, she cried, and finally I reached out and hugged her to comfort her. Holding her, she stopped crying. “ Okay,” she finally looked up at me and said, “Well, Robert… if I do the same thing again, let me know… from now on, I’ll listen to you…” Mom smiled shyly. I smiled too, but I knew it wouldn’t be so easy. But I nodded. I told Mom, “I beg you, don’t do anything for now… until you’ve completely let him go…” “ Yes ,” she said, “I know, I will, don’t worry, this is the last thing I want right now. I just want to feel free. I want to be myself again.” We sat on the sofa, and I held her… She felt so good, so warm, and smelled so nice… Now she didn’t belong to anyone. Who else but me would love her as much as I did… Although it might already be somewhere deep inside me, somewhere in my mind… I really felt like it all started when Dale left. Mother 1 The first night, I felt great, even though Rob and I cried on the sofa for a while… I felt so free, like a huge weight had been lifted off me. I don’t think I realized how oppressive Dale had been, I think I might have just gotten used to his treatment, or something… But I felt like my life was starting anew, and now he was gone. I couldn’t be happier, even though, like I said, I did cry for a while. Well, that's understandable. The whole ordeal was quite emotionally charged, and Dale certainly played the sympathy card—it's his usual deceptive tactic. He's a master of emotional manipulation; I'm only now beginning to realize how much he's prepared me emotionally. However, for some reason, his deception didn't work on Robert. Robert seemed immune to everything he did. Maybe it only works on girls; I don't really know. Anyway, Dale finally didn't come back, which was a relief. I looked forward to sleeping alone for a while and starting my own life. As I lay on the sofa in Robert's arms, I thought, I'm free, I'm finally free. Looking back, it seems to me... I know it sounds crazy, but it seems like the whole thing between Robert and me started that night, the night Dale left, and the night Robert held me in his arms. I know it's crazy, it has to be much deeper... But it was the first time I noticed... Robert's attraction. Son 2 : Life goes on, and things are definitely getting better. My mom is still living her old life. Now, she laughs heartily at things that are interesting, and even things that aren't so interesting. I hope she realizes how much pressure Dale put on her; I think she does. She seems to enjoy life more, enjoying more different aspects of it. I'm happy for her. Celeste and I didn't get along well. We finally laid it all out and decided to separate for a while. I don't know what her real problem with me is; she seems unable to truly understand what she wants. Just like my mom leaving Dale, finally leaving with Celeste was a relief. I mean, we didn't say it was our decision, but I think we both knew. It's all over, and I'm actually relieved because I know I can't make her happy. I don't know what she wants, and I'm not sure if she wants it at all, which is an invisible pressure on me. Mother 2 : When Dale was around, Rob wasn't very important or caring in my life. Besides, we couldn't understand the secrets of teenage feelings. From a few words he uttered during our casual conversation, I realized he and Celeste had fallen out, so I asked him about it. We talked quite amicably, and he told me they had broken up. Good, although I didn't say it aloud, I knew very little about her. From Robert's words, I could tell she was a jealous, manipulative bitch. I felt Robert deserved a better girl. I was glad she left Robert. Actually, I did think that he needed a woman like me, someone who truly cared about him. I was a good fit. I no longer had the suffocating pressure of Dale, and I had time to be with Robert. I would try my best to comfort him, to make him realize that being with Celeste was a bad experience, a lesson, and that the next woman would be better. My mother was quite sympathetic to me about the whole Celeste affair; I talked to her much more than when Dale was still around. Indeed; now that he 's gone, I have more time to talk to Mom, and I feel closer to her. I love my mother; she's very good to me, she's young, fashionable, and… When I was facing my mom... she was very attractive; she had a beautiful figure. That night... compared to the girls I went to school with. The first thing that came to mind was... her sexy scent. She seduced me, and when I thought about sex, I got hard because I thought... yes... I would do it... Thinking about my mom bothered me, but not for as long as I expected. ? ? As time went by, the thought almost solidified in my mind. To avoid lust, I started paying attention to her, not getting too close, looking for reasons why I didn't like her. But there weren't many. She gave me a lot of freedom, but I still knew she cared about me. Damn, I have to say... when Dale was here, I knew she cared about me; back then, the distance between us was almost entirely controlled by me. I resented her liking Dale.

Now I feel like she's all mine, and I can see I possess her more than before. I realize that one time when we went shopping, I kept noticing men staring at her. I realize I'm angry, but also happy. I'm behaving just like I did with Celeste in the beginning. I wonder... is this another beginning?

I realize how much I want to be with my mom... even though... the thought is crazy... I mean, with my own mom? Crazy.
That
night I did something... unimaginable. And its effects on me are quite far-reaching.

We went to sleep, and I just lay there... thinking... I slowly stroked myself, thinking...

That night I thought about what happened to me again. I quietly got out of bed, put on my shorts, and quietly went to the garage where the washing machine and dryer are. After turning on the light, I was nervous. If Mom found me there in the middle of the night, I thought I could say I was looking for my underwear or something, and she would probably believe that anyway.

Usually, dirty clothes in the bathroom are in a laundry basket on the floor. I dug this out… I hurriedly fled back to my room, my prize crumpled in a small ball in my hand.

In my room, I examined it carefully—how small and beautiful. Mom's panties. With high expectations, I pressed them to my nose and sniffed… Oh my god… in my excitement, I can't describe it… I smelled Mom's vagina, and I told myself, my mom's vagina, so close to my lips, like heaven.

I turned on the light on my desk and saw a white stripe, which I thought was the mark of her labia, and a brown mark, which must be where Mom's anus was.

I felt closer to Mom's body than I had ever felt before; I felt absolutely intimate with her, almost speechless.
I
had smelled a woman's vagina before. Well… that was Celeste's. I had smelled her down there several times with my fingers, but this time, it was incredible… I knew whose scent it was. It excited me as if I'd never encountered anything before. I think even the first time I smelled Celine's underwear wouldn't have affected me as much as I was now. I just lay there, breathing in her wonderful scent.
I
swear the underwear was still almost wet... My penis was harder than I expected, the strong smell of Mom's underwear in my nostrils created a powerful orgasm, and I finally convulsed and ejaculated. My shrunken penis felt a little painful, yet incredibly pleasurable.

Mother 3.
Life went on. After several attempts to refuse Dale's requests to get back together, my persistence instilled in him awe and led him to give up hope. I changed the locks and my phone number; he seemed to have left my life forever.

Sitting in the living room at night, doing nothing, was wonderful. I had no expectations; I read novels, watched TV, did chores, and I was even a little bored—a surprisingly new experience for me.

With Robert by my side, we even played some board games, and he showed me some on the computer. However, board games were still quite fun for me. Now Robert and Celeste aren't seeing each other anymore, and he seems unhappy. They see each other less often, and I think she's very careful about how much time they spend together... But he seems a bit aimless right now. I understand, I feel that way too.
One Friday night, to kill time, we went to see a movie. An old-fashioned film, what Robert calls an analog film. It was fun, I mean the silly things in the movie were fun, and afterwards we went to get some curry hot dogs, though I worried I'd regret it later. Living and doing things with Robert is doubly enjoyable, and it's worth it; I don't regret it. I've always been sad because I missed my chance to get closer to Robert earlier, and Dale's departure has been setting us up. When Dale was home, I was with that jerk Dale. He completely ignored him, and Robert was always miserable, and sometimes I think... I promise myself again I'll never do that again. I love the new intimacy with my son; I don't want to lose it again. I know he won't be young anymore. I want to savor every little moment of his youth. I want to reclaim my youth from him like a vampire. That Friday night, we went to the movies together. It was long and boring, but with my sweet talk, I knew she enjoyed it, so it was fine. I proudly carried her around town, wondering if people would think we were a couple. I know it sounds crazy. She looked great in her knee-length skirt and white top, so cute, younger than her 34 years. It's possible, I thought: she's happier now than she was with Dale, it's possible. It 's not just me who knows my mom is beautiful, the classic kind. Wherever we go, even when I was a child, I've noticed men staring at her. And the more lecherous men would try to talk to her. This didn't happen as often when she was with Dale; I think the look on his face scared them away. Of course, after Dale left, she was with someone… I'm sad. Last Friday night, I saw it again and again. Not the talking parts, but the men staring at her. Undeniably, Mom was like a vixen, damn beautiful. Of course, now that she'd gotten rid of Dale, her personality was much more cheerful, and she was beautiful wherever she was. She was a popular beauty. Mother 4 That evening, when we got home, we sat around on the sofa, trying to watch TV, but we couldn't concentrate on anything. I finally stood up and poured myself a glass of wine. I poured one for Robert too, but he refused, so I felt a little proud of myself for raising him so well-mannered. He mumbled complaints about how awful the wine tasted, etc… I guess it was an acquired habit. I drank one, and then finished the one I'd poured for him. I'm not an alcoholic, but I do enjoy wine. Two glasses warmed me up, but didn't really get me drunk. Then I drank a third, and I wondered what was wrong with me, making me drink three glasses. I started to wake up and looked around. I was lying on the sofa, my head on Robert's lap. He was asleep, his whole body curled up towards me. I thought, what the hell? He closed his eyes again. In the morning , I woke up when he turned over, and we both finally sat up, smiling at ourselves. I still felt a little sleepy, stumbled into the bathroom, and took a long hot shower. I went to the kitchen to make some breakfast, and he came in shortly after; we ate breakfast together. The day passed, and soon it was evening again. We played more computer games and finally returned to the sofa. This time, his head finally rested on my lap, and he quickly fell asleep. He turned over, and I really didn't want to spend another night on the sofa, but I thought I would at least give him some time. Finally, he turned to face me, his face pressed directly against my lap. I stroked his hair, and finally, around midnight, I woke him up and took him back to his own bed. Son 5

Saturday night was cool and fun. We played games and watched TV. She watched TV, and I watched her. My feelings for her were getting stronger, but I still didn't know why... Maybe it was related to the breakup with Celine, I don't know... but being with Mom made me happy.

On Friday night, my mom drank some alcohol and got a little drunk. She seemed to be indulging herself a bit, enjoying her newfound freedom. I wish she would do this more often. Sleeping on the sofa with her, I was passionate and happy, and I later admitted to myself that I slept in bed with Mom. Yes, if that sounds silly. But it was cool.

We did the same thing on Saturday night, but this time my head was on her lap, and I pretended to be asleep. I twisted and turned until I faced her, pressing my face directly against the crotch of her panties, breathing in her scent until I thought my lungs were going to burst.

I smelled... I could really smell the intoxicating scent emanating from her vagina. I remembered the smell of her panties, lying there, emanating from the source, not from the panties she wore, but from the source… her vagina. It intoxicated me, and I didn't want to get up.

When Mom finally woke me up, I pretended to have just woken up, and then I had to wait until she stood up while I readjusted my hard-on so I could stand up without Mom noticing. That night I masturbated thinking about Mom's vagina, damn it, I smelled Mom's vagina, I smelled the scent emanating from Mom's vagina. ?

Mother 5
? The first hint I got was that Rob was watching me…. Sex… One day, he was practicing after school, and I was doing laundry. I took the new bedding to his room to change, pulling down the old sheets. As I pulled them from between his mattresses, something fell out, and I bent down to pick them up.

Among all the things that had fallen out was a pair of my underwear. At first I thought they might be Celeste's, but when I looked closer, I was sure they were mine. At least my size. My ass isn't that big, but I'm sure it's bigger than Miss Celeste's. And… not clean underwear. I was embarrassed to notice some white streaks on it…

Worst of all, there were small brown stains on the crotch. Damn, I don't swear often. I wondered how one of my underwear ended up between his mattresses, and then I ran into the obvious problem. He just left them there. Damn! What the hell does this mean? Did he just leave them there? The underwear is mine, does this have anything to do with me? Is he going to wear it? I shook my head. This required some serious thought.

I carefully changed them, and then, after some thought, I put the old bedding back on his bed. When I was done, I put the new linen sheets on the headboard of his bed; I didn't want him to know I'd found the underwear. I didn't want to embarrass him.

In fact, I'd been thinking about it all day, all week. I wondered over and over what those underwear meant to him. Did they mean… damn…? Forgive my swearing… that I wanted my pussy for him?

I know that for men, who… doesn’t matter. Does this concern him? Is it just curiosity for him, or interest in my pussy? And… I must admit the thought excites me a little…

What exactly did he do to my panties? Did he smell the fishy odor? Did he rub them? I didn’t see any stains on the panties… I couldn’t have left them there…

He’s a teenage boy, I told myself… He certainly used them… to masturbate. That’s exactly what boys do. I have two brothers, so I actually know quite a bit about boys and their masturbation habits. I often watched my brothers playing with their little dicks in the backyard from my bedroom window.

I even saw them sometimes having our dog lick their dicks. I remember the white fluid that spurted out when they were about to finish. Over the years, it took me a long time to understand what I was seeing. These are actually old, familiar memories, and now, they’re not even disgusting anymore. It’s almost funny.
I
wondered again and again what Robert was thinking when he masturbated. Masturbation, hand-slapping, convulsions, whatever. I wonder if he's thinking about me, over and over again. I have to admit, it makes me a little, contrary to my judgment… thinking it might be me. I know I'm still slim. I know I… am sexy. I like it. That's who I am.

With Dale, I was largely suppressed, he only wanted it all for himself. I feel, now, I've come out of my shell. I'm back to myself. And the real me is….

Face it…. I'm pretty sexy, what does that have to do with my teenage son? I wonder. I don't know if I should hide my sexiness. Maybe not, but I certainly shouldn't touch his face so often, it's not fair to him or me.
?
Son 6
? I don't remember that night, I think it was Thursday…. It was a long and boring week. We were just lying there, my mom and me…. We had just run to the burger joint and bought some burgers and fries. We ate them on the couch, and then we messed around. I pinned her down, teasing her, enjoying the feeling of her soft body beneath my touch. I wanted her to know how much I loved her, how excited she was.

She might not have been interested yet; I just felt I lacked the courage. I felt that being too explicit would ruin our relationship. The further I wanted, I knew, wouldn't be so easy to achieve, but I just wanted to tell her: I wanted her, more than anything in the world.

We ended up lying on the floor, one foot on her lower back as she lay on the carpet. When we got home, there were toothpicks in the hamburger, and somehow she dropped hers on the floor. As she lay there, I think I might have been poked hard in the butt by a toothpick while I was on top of her.

From her expression, I could tell something was wrong. She put her hand back there, and when she looked at it, there was blood on it.

"Something might have poked me," she said. "I think it's still on me."

She touched it again, and there was more blood. Around that time, I noticed half a toothpick on the floor.
“
I bet this is it,” I said. “The other half might still be on.”
“
Oh, shit!” she said, pressing her hand against her bleeding buttocks.

“Let me see,” I said anxiously, my heart filled with hope.

“Robert…it’s on my…butt…” she said, sounding embarrassed.
“
Mom…the toothpick is already inside you…at least let me see. Here, sit on my lap.”
I sat on the sofa with my knees out. I gestured for her to lie face down on my lap. She seemed unable to decide, remaining silent…a little lost.

“Robert…we’ll go to…the small clinic. They’ll know what to do…”

“Mom! Let me see. It might not be a problem, it might be serious, but let me see first, then decide. We’re adults…”
Yes
, I thought, we’re adults, but I might see her sexy butt…temptation…my mother’s butt. I want to emphasize again that I care about her... Yes, I know she's still hurting and in pain
.
She finally slowly leaned onto my lap, half her buttocks on the sofa. I looked down at her smooth, beautiful backside. She was wearing loose white shorts, stained with blood. I pulled up the leg where the blood was and immediately saw it. A toothpick was stuck in her shorts, the broken half lodged in her left buttock.

I could see a small section of the broken skewer protruding from her skin. I felt terrible about the whole thing; I felt it was my fault for pressing my leg down on her. "

Mom!" I said, "It's still in there. A little bit of the skewer head is sticking out, and if you're strong enough, I can use tweezers to pull it out. Or, we can go to the clinic."
She
stood up carefully, and from the way she moved so little, I knew she was in pain.

"Okay," she finally said. "Whatever you think. If you're willing, I am too."

Yes, I think… I am. If I could see your butt, I would. I went to the small bathroom in the living room, wet a piece of gauze, and found a pair of small tweezers. When I returned, she was still standing by the sofa, seemingly hesitant.

"It's up to you," I said. "I'd love to try, but I don't want to hurt you any further. If you want to go to the clinic, I can call a taxi."
"
Okay," she said again, "I really don't want to suffer the ride to the clinic again. At least let's try..."

"Okay," I agreed, and sat down again. She started to lie down opposite me, but I stopped her.
"
Mom!" I said, "At least you have to take your shorts off first."

And that, she did stop. "

Robert—" she finally said, "Are you sure—"

"Mom! It's up to you. But if you don't, it's quite difficult for me to remove such a small toothpick. You're still wearing underwear.
"
I was really excited wondering if she was wearing underwear; I felt my penis growing longer in my pants. Oh my god! I was getting ready to have her lie on my lap. "

I think…" she said hesitantly, and I watched her pull her shorts off her legs. She was wearing underwear, a sexy pink one, of course.

Damn, I thought… as she turned and leaned against my shoulder—to lie on my lap—her underwear was like a thong—. Removing the toothpick was no problem, but the temptation was…

My penis was getting harder and harder now, seeing my mother in a thong. Damn. She finally put all her weight on my lap, and I carefully wiped the skin around the wound with gauze. I told myself I was cleaning my mother's bottom, to avoid distraction and to prevent any mistakes. But my penis told me I had Mom.

I carefully placed one palm on her round, smooth bottom, the other hand holding a pair of tweezers, ready. Just being able to touch her now was enough. That was enough.

I easily used the tweezers to grab the protruding toothpick and pulled it out. She cried out, and I apologized to her. She apologized to me again for apologizing to her.

I just sat there, pressing the gauze against the small hole in her bottom, trying to stop the bleeding. We talked about trivial things. I tried to figure out where her anus and vagina were, but her underwear wasn't that transparent, damn it.

I checked the wound; it was still bleeding—okay, I'll just sit here a little longer, pressing the gauze against my mother's bottom. I wanted to know if she could feel my erection, and in a way, I wanted her to feel it, at least a little. I wanted her to know I was a man. All those wild thoughts I'd mentioned before about not wanting to ruin our relationship, but in a way, I still felt it was important for her to at least know—that she aroused me.
The
toothpick
thing was embarrassing; it stung like hell, and like I'd said before, I didn't want to reject him and hurt his feelings. That day, I was lying on his knees, my ass right in front of him. And on the same day, for some crazy reason, I'd chosen to wear a thong. God, I was so glad he took the toothpick out of my ass; I didn't want the doctor to see my ass at the clinic.

Then I thought…yes, it was much better to have my teenage, super-hormonal son with his hands on my ass than to have a middle-aged stranger, Dr. Dufors, with his rough rubber gloves on my bare bottom.

Then, of all things, I realized he was stroking my butt with his fingers, like something was around me... poking my thigh, down there... oh my god! It was his erect penis. It was so over the top, I almost laughed out loud.

What was going to happen next was that I just lay there quietly, sprawled on his erection, while he pressed a gauze pad against my bleeding butt to stop the bleeding. What a wonderful day!

Son 7
? Seeing ninety percent of my mom's butt was just too much for me. She has a perfect butt, and if you saw it, you would never believe my mom is thirty-four. It's tight and firm, without wrinkles or a single fat pad.

I know it's firm because when I pulled the pieces out, I pressed my hand on it, I leaned down to look, like I wanted to smell her scent, just because I love her.

I swear I could almost smell the stench emanating from her anus, a stench of dog poop, and it excited me so much that I almost came.

I know my penis is harder than steel. I was wondering then, and still am now, whether she felt my erection poking her. With her lying down, I don't think it went very deep, but I could feel she knew, and I wanted her to feel it in some way, like I said, I wanted her to know she aroused me. Anyway,
I
finally put a cotton ball and a band-aid on her injured butt, and she lay on the sofa for a while with her head on my lap. She wasn't wearing shorts yet, and as she watched TV, I looked at her beautiful butt, only an arm's length away. I was surprised she hadn't put her shorts back on, but secretly pleased. Nothing could make me happier. Well, maybe I'd like to put my fingers or face on her butt--.

Mother 7.
I think I should put my shorts back on, but there are a few reasons I haven't. I want to stop the bleeding, and he has to check before I go to sleep. The most exciting reason is----. I know my body arouses him, it sounds crazy, and I want to give him… what he wants, I want to make him happy.

If he wants to see my butt, he can see it. I knew it was all I could do, but I didn't blame him for it. I knew it was evil, or immoral or something, but I wanted to give him some pleasure. I just never dreamed it would lead to anything. It wasn't that stage yet. (

Son 8
) Finally, that night when I went to sleep, all I could think about was my mother's buttocks. How much I wanted to pinch, slap, kiss, and lick it. I was obsessed with it.

I didn't waste time taking my penis out and masturbated to ejaculation, just as I had imagined and dreamed of her. I hoped to see it again when I checked the wound tomorrow. She had me check it before bed, and although I had been staring at her almost bare buttocks for the past two hours, I still enjoyed it.

After I changed the bandage, we went to sleep. In bed, I tossed and turned, thinking of her, and I grabbed my husband's hand and masturbated, almost ejaculating violently, wondering if she knew what I was doing. How could I not think of her? How could she not know? I am a man, and this is what we do.
?
Mother 8
? The wound on my buttocks was better the next day. Before going to work, I had Robert check my buttocks, this time wearing elegant and decent underwear. When he pulled the underwear off my buttocks, I still felt strange, staring down, staring, changing the bandage.

I wondered what he had been doing all night after he went to sleep, staring at my buttocks---. Sometimes I could see him out of the corner of my eye, and I knew he was staring at it. Oh my god! I know my butt is cute and pretty, I know I shouldn't be thinking like this, but why not, but it looks—a little—a little natural.

I know he loves me, and I love him. I don't know now if it's the Dale thing that caused the… backlash, or something else. I don't know. Looking back, it seems like something that has come together… to bring us together..... Although I know some of these are things he's always wanted to happen, I have to admit—some I'd rather have it happen. I should feel worse than I do..... ?

Son 9
? The following week went by normally, nothing really great happened, school was terrible, Celeste was ignoring me, which was pretty much what I expected.

My mom's butt healed well, no scars. Finally, it was Friday night. She went out to dinner with some of her colleagues, and I hung out at a strip club with Randy Worthington and his sister.

His sister liked me, but she was an old and ugly girl, and I thought she would be very upset if I said that. I really couldn't imagine kissing her or doing anything flirtatious. I finally got them to take me home; my mother was already home.

We talked for a while, then watched a show on TV—it was still early before bedtime. I felt like anything could happen between my mom and me.

My mother finally stood up and poured herself a drink, which pleased me; I liked how relaxed and clingy she was when she drank. I was looking forward to it, and less than an hour later, she poured herself another.

As she started on her third drink, I thought—this is cool, maybe I'll get something out of this tonight. I know I was thinking this—I should have felt evil, but I wasn't. Just lying on the sofa with her, cuddling her, watching TV was enough. I knew I might at least have a chance to get something out of it.
Chapter
2
Mother 9
I think I drank too much that night. I could see his hungry, predatory anticipation. I drank almost a whole bottle of wine; it really did relax me a lot. Perhaps I was too relaxed, because what I vaguely remember next is lying on Robert's lap, him holding me, whispering silly flirtatious things in my ear.

"Robert..." I felt the urge to speak, and I finally said it—I almost didn't know what I was saying, the urge to clarify some things between us.

"Yes, Mom..." he said, placing his hands on my shoulders. I finally sat up. He tried to pull me onto his lap, but I refused. I felt an increasing urge to clarify things between us.
"
Darling..." I began, not even knowing where to begin.

"Robert, darling—you are everything to me. When Dale was with us, I felt like I had almost lost you. Now that Dale is gone, I've found you again—I love you so much, more than anything—I never want to go back to the days with Dale—" "
I
know, Mom…" he said seriously, "I feel the same way—" "

Darling, I just want to say that you're young, your future is ahead of you waiting to be developed—you need to go out and find a girl who loves you, someone who's suitable to fight alongside you, you can—"
I
felt I hadn't expressed what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him not to keep an eye on me, but I was a little nervous—what if he wasn't even watching me? Or was it just…my overthinking? I didn't want to embarrass him. “Mom,” he said slowly, looking directly into my face, “I love you more than my life. You are what I need, and I will always need you. I just want to be with you.” “
Oh ! Darling—” I felt myself suffocating, realizing from his words that it all involved me. “Robert, darling. Don’t make me the center of your life, you’re just getting started—don’t waste it on me… I’m an old woman now—” “No, no, you’re not—you’re perfect, too perfect, I love you.” After he said that, to my shock, he leaned down and kissed me on the lips, just a quick kiss. I let him kiss me, a little shocked, even though letting my son kiss me wasn’t wrong. But this kiss just felt different, and lasted longer than it should have. Finally, I pushed him away. I could feel his heat on my face, my heart pounding—I have to admit—I felt a shiver—from my sensitive spot down there. I thought…not now, not now to ignite my desire in that place. Undeniably. I forced myself to face it. The scent of my son's masculine hormones excited me. His hands on my bare legs almost melted me; I was hot, my body was hot—physically, emotionally, I was burning. I didn't know how to make up my mind, so when I didn't know what to do, I started doing what I usually did. I started crying. "Oh! Mom." I swear he was about to cry too. He pulled me close, grabbed me, and pressed his body against mine. I was almost terrified by his actions. What had happened? I needed time to think. He brought his head close to mine, rested his chin on my shoulder, and just held me. It felt good. It felt just like I said—yes, it felt so good. I let him hold me; his arms felt so strong, and I felt safe inside him. I thought, let it all continue, let it all continue forever. I was so happy in his arms, I felt safe here, let it all continue. " Mom—" His lips were close to my ear, almost a moan of pleasure. His breath felt so good, warm and comforting against my ear, a sexual urge emanating from within me. I thought—stop thinking like this, he's your son, it's time to stop. But I couldn't. I just melted in his arms .

He continued to whisper in my ear, "Mom!" he murmured, "We love each other. We have everything. We have everything we need. Everything we do for love is right, it's good. There's nothing wrong with love, right? How could there be? Isn't this feeling of love right?"

He stopped, and I was speechless, not knowing what to say. I felt I knew what he wanted to do, but I was powerless to stop him.

"Mom..." he finally said, "Let me love you, let's do the right thing, let's do what we both want to do. Let me love you."
He
brought his face close to mine again and kissed me. This time, for reasons I wasn't sure of, I didn't refuse his French kiss. He was right, I thought—it was right.

Hmm—what we're doing is wrong—but I had to admit to myself that this was what we both wanted. What I wanted most deep down was to make love to my son. I knew it was wrong, I knew I was breaking every law and custom in the world—but, God! I wanted it. His lips felt soft against mine, I tasted him, I tasted his saliva in my mouth—it tasted good, I could even taste a hint of toothpaste. I don't remember ever enjoying a kiss since I was a teenager.
The thought brought me back to reality. I was kissing a teenager, actually my son, a teenager—thrusting into my mouth, his hands stumbling and groping all over my body—from his chest to his thighs, then to my feet. I cried again, I didn't reciprocate his passion, I looked down at him. He looked disappointed. I knew he wanted more from me, I could feel it. "I'm sorry, Robert—" I murmured, my voice choked with tears, "I'm sorry, darling—" I staggered out the door, into my room, and collapsed onto the bed. I was sorry, I was so sorry. I did n't know why I was sorry, didn't know what we had done, what I had allowed to do, or what had ended. I just lay there, in the chaos, crying. I heard him come into the room and felt him sit on the edge of the bed. My nose was stuffy and throbbing, tears and snot streaming down my face, and I finally stood up. I just looked at him, and before I realized he wanted me, my heart melted again. I was in his arms, and as I looked at him and cried again, he held me. " Mom..." he called. I sighed and waited... I almost felt I knew what he was going to say. I thought to myself, what have I done? Is it my fault that I put him in this state? Did I lead him here? I felt it wasn't fair to blame him; he's just a child. How did this all begin? "Mom," he said, "you didn't do anything wrong, please don't cry..." I looked up at him helplessly. "Robert!" I finally said, "I know what you want... I have to admit I want it too... I know it's wrong, and you know it's wrong... We're mother and son, that just can't be... Darling, it has to end before it goes wrong... I've let it get out of control, I'm sorry..." " Mom!" he interrupted me. "Don't think that way, don't say that. You have to admit, this love is beautiful, and you felt it. I know you'll agree. Don't worry about what society thinks is right or wrong. Trust your feelings, trust me." I sighed and cried for a while. Once again, I lay on his lap, letting him hold me, and it felt better. I tried to understand what he was saying. I knew he said that just because he wanted to have sex with me. This thought made him feel that there was nothing wrong with it. But I felt sorry for him. I wanted to make him happy. But I couldn't... I just couldn't. I knew what was right and what was wrong. We talked until late at night. I tried to make him understand, and I think he did, but I think he just wanted… he wanted more. He tried to get me to accept his point of view, and he was very persuasive. I found his words increasingly attractive. Giving in, drowning myself in his love. I don't want to admit it, but I have to. The attraction was immense. I kept looking at him, thinking, what am I doing, what am I thinking… This is my son… This child came from my body… Am I going crazy? He finally fell silent, and I lay on his lap, exhausted. Son 10. Mom finally fell asleep, lying on my lap. At least she wasn't crying anymore, and I felt she was listening to me, listening to my arguments. I almost felt a little hopeful of winning her body, but I know how adaptable a person is in life, and at the same time… it felt good to sit on the bed and hold her; she was soft and warm, and smelled wonderful. I wanted her to lie down, to lie next to her, but I knew if I tried, she would wake up. At least she knew I wanted to do her, at least she knew how I felt about her now. She accepted it better than I expected. Mother 10 When I woke up, I was still lying on top of him, my upper body on his knees, my head resting on his legs. I thought he was patiently waiting for me to wake up, or perhaps since last night. I stood up and looked at the clock. Good heavens, it was almost three o'clock. I stood up quickly and sullenly and looked at Robert. He looked back at me, as serious as ever. My love for him burst forth from within, all my inhibitions paled in comparison. I felt I realized how much he loved me. I could almost feel the sensation of him entering my body. I sighed. From now on, nothing would be so simple and innocent anymore. "Mom!" he called to me, and I looked up at him. "Mom! Go back to sleep! It's only three in the morning," he said, standing by my bed. I climbed into bed, lay in my sleeping position, and covered my legs with the blanket. He sat down on the edge of my bed and put his arm around my waist. I searched my mind for words, for profound topics, for things that would dispel all the confusion, something to help us return to a normal mother-son relationship. But my mind was completely blank. Before I could even voice my thoughts, he spoke. " Mom! You know how I feel about you, I love you. If you don't say another word this morning, I won't bring it up again. Things will go back to how they were before, and that outcome depends entirely on you, but never forget how much I love you. Promise me, okay?" I was silent for a moment, thinking about what he said. Basically, I was considering his proposal. I respected his offer, even though I knew that if I refused, we might never be able to go back to how things were before. From now on, if I agreed, this would make our relationship better or worse, for better or for worse. You can't go back the way he said. But I believe he's tried his best. I know he still wants me, and I still want him. But we'll try. It has to be this way. I gestured to him with my eyes and my body. He leaned his face against mine, and I pulled his body up. He climbed onto my bed and lay down next to me. I nudged his shoulders, and he finally guessed what I wanted him to do, lying down facing me with his back to my stomach in the popular spoon pattern. For some crazy reason, I wanted to give him some of the intimacy he seemed to crave, and then I pushed him away again.

I thought, tonight, tonight is all we have left to do. I rested my head on his head and whispered in his ear:
"
Robert! Darling… thank you… thank you for seeing what's going to happen. Darling… I'm so sorry… no one is sadder than me. But it just has to be this way, darling… we just can't, you have to understand."
I felt him nod. I wanted him to understand, and I held him tighter, hoping this wasn't the last time I'd hold him and confuse him. Tears started to fall from my eyelids. I kissed his ear and buried my head behind it.
Son
11
Although I felt she was reminding me that we couldn't be mother and son, lying in my mother's bed, letting her hold me like I was a baby, was better than nothing. I wondered: would we do this, for the last time, or the only time? It was almost enough, although I kind of hoped we could be reversed, and I could hold her.

But for now, it was enough. It seems she wants me to do what I said I would, to go back to simply being her son. If that's what she truly wants, I'll try. But deep down, I'll always love her as much as I do now.
If
that's what she wants, I'll do what she wants, and we'll go back to the issue of being mother and son. It will be difficult, and I just want her to give me a little more. I think I have no other choice. I sighed, closed my eyes, and let her hold me.

Mother 11
I suddenly woke up and looked at the clock on the dressing table. It was almost 5 a.m. The sun should be out soon, and there would be some sunlight on this bed. Rob was sleeping beside me, his breathing steady. I touched his arm; it was cold. I pulled the blanket over him as much as I could and held him again as I fell asleep.

I had gotten up long before him, taken a shower, and changed into fresh clothes. I made a big breakfast, and he finally stumbled in, and we ate. Later, Cindy and I went shopping, and I'm not sure what he did the rest of the time.

That night we gathered at home again. I made a pizza, and we settled in front of the TV, just like always.

He seemed to keep his promise; he didn't put his hand on my shoulder or deliberately move closer. It seemed like it was all in the past. And strangely, as night fell, I realized something was missing. It was me, I told myself, that I was truly empty inside, that I felt it.

I longed to feel his arms around me again, like he had done the night before, to hear his steady breathing in the quiet night, to feel his warmth beside me. Except this time, I wanted him to be with me under the blanket.

I forced myself to stop thinking, to be objective. What could this possibly happen? I asked myself, and nothing good, I answered myself. I would regret not doing something so wonderful.

My mind said, "Maybe we've just never heard of its feasibility..." There was no good reason to refuse; maybe we'd just heard it was wrong. Maybe it had been done hundreds, thousands of times.

Maybe it was love, true love, and not just familial love. Maybe we're destined to love each other, considering my feelings for him, whatever, it's possible. My subconscious is starting to awaken; I just learned
this
from that stupid Dale. It's just like playing with pets; a year from now, we'll both be laughing about it, each with our own beloved.

Parents don't love their children because of sex. They love their children out of kinship, but it's a different kind of love—a sublimation of kinship.
It
's fucking shameful, look! My pussy is wet right now. Just thinking about my son makes me wet. 'Shut up,' my subconscious tells me: you stupid bitch. Fuck you! Look at my pussy, all hairy.

This is so stupid, it's all pointless, my mind is in turmoil, I stop talking to myself.

Maybe sometimes these things really do come true. Will I be that lucky? Will I finally find the love I've been searching for all my life? Can I satisfy him? When I'm old, and he's a middle-aged man, with male desires, will he still be sexually interested in me?
I
thought about so many questions. I shifted my feet on the sofa, reached out to hug him, and pulled him against my thighs. He lay comfortably. I placed my hands on his neck, stroking his head. I thought…this head…this head, came into this world through my vagina. Inside my body, I created him. He came from me; for a time, he was a part of me, until the umbilical cord was cut.

He doesn't remember, but he has seen his birth opening—this moist, hairy vagina. But inside the vagina…it hasn't been explored yet, and I look forward to showing it to him again. I was almost horrified to realize how I could have such thoughts.

Without realizing the consequences, I thought I needed to shave my pubic hair again so I wouldn't…prick his face. I realized something was about to happen. In my lustful frenzy, I was preparing to let him inside me, to be with my son with my own flesh and blood. I knew this was what he truly wanted deep down.

I felt it in him, in his eyes. I felt his desire for me, and I desired it too. Some of what I gave him was voluntary.

How could we get so close, so fast? I asked myself. What's wrong with you, single mature woman
?
All of this flashed through my mind in a matter of minutes, and I realized I had made up my mind, for better or for worse. I was going to give him what he wanted, and most of all, I wanted to make him happy. Give him what he wanted.

"Robert!" I leaned down and whispered his name directly into his ear. I knew from experience that it was incredibly arousing when someone did that to me. It always sent chills down my spine.
"
What…" he whispered back, and I could hear the confusion in his voice. “

Robert!” I called his name, and he sat up, as if he knew something big was about to happen.
“
First,” I said, “you must always remember that I love you more than myself, more than anything or anyone in the world. You…only you. You are my everything. Not because of foolish things like…we make love, or anything else, I can’t lose you.”

He nodded, still looking confused.
“
If…” I said, “If we do this… to make our relationship last for each other, you must promise me, promise me your most sacred and steadfast commitment, never let it get out of control. Never let it end in regret. If we feel we must have a good beginning, we must have a good ending. When I ask for an ending, you cannot object. We must do it; we cannot risk damaging our mother-son relationship.
”
He nodded sullenly. I think he was beginning to see what I was trying to give him.
“
The world’s judgment may be against us, but if we choose this path, we must endure it, Robert! We must fight against everything, from human nature to the psychological conditions we don’t even know we possess. Please… it’s worth the fight if you choose this path.”

I stopped and stared at his face. He stared back at me, his expression serious, which was understandable. "
Robert!" I said. "You'll sit here for at least an hour and think about your decision. I'm going to sleep. Think about what I said. It's harder than you've ever thought about in your life. It's almost an all-or-nothing situation... I mean: if things don't go well, it will be very difficult for us to restore our mother-son relationship."

I continued, "Think about the risks, which is what I'm asking of you. Once you've decided: either go to sleep or come to me. If you go to sleep, we'll never talk about this again, and we'll live our normal lives. If you come to my room, I will... I will... We'll see what happens... Just remember that I love you the most, you are the most precious thing in my life. I would die for you, I love you." I

finally shut up. I felt my heart pounding wildly. I leaned forward and kissed him, a kiss longer than usual. I thought maybe this was the last kiss, depending on his decision.

I felt his lips rubbing and moving beneath mine. I finally pushed away his passionate kiss, stood up, left his room, and never looked back.
(
Son 12
) I felt I completely understood her feelings. I admired her and loved her even more. She explained the seriousness of the consequences and what I needed to consider. Of course; I already knew what I was going to do. I had already made up my mind. This just brought her back to my point of view. I knew she was right: we were risking damage to our mother-son relationship, but I felt our desire to have her was stronger than the risk of damage to our reputation.

I felt this was just something that was bound to happen, and I was glad she wanted me to make a decision now.

What would happen next? When I think about what she'll be like when she's thirty, then what will she be like when she's forty-eight? Will she be enough for me? Will she still be as sexy as she is now? After so much time has passed, will there still be sex? Or is this just a phase? I hope it's more than that; I hope it lasts forever. I don't care how she changes in the future; I just want her.

Even something deep inside me wanted her more than life itself; I knew I could live without her. I just didn't want to think that way.
I
thought, when I went into her room, I'd climb into her bed, but anyway, I wouldn't rush into having sex with her on the first night. I'd just hold her, enjoying the physical intimacy… just holding her, feeling her beside me, knowing she was thinking of me, just as I was thinking of her, anticipating the passion that would follow—that was what I wanted most.
I
heard her brushing her teeth in the master bathroom. I thought, damn it, I remember doing that when I was looking forward to kissing her. I glanced at the clock; the agonizing hour was almost over, time to get ready for her room. I knew he wanted me, he'd made up his mind, just as I'd expected. I was almost dizzy with joy; subconsciously, I felt happiness silently arriving, you damn son.
I
went into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar, and lazily took off my shorts and shirt. After a moment's thought, I also took off my bra and panties. I stood naked for a while. Even though I'm very particular about my appearance, running my hands down my thighs and buttocks, I still felt the firmness and smoothness of the flesh. I knew I looked good. I knew I was sexy, and I thought that even though I'm middle-aged, my figure was still pretty good. I tossed and turned in bed, still naked. I was excited thinking about what he would think when he came. I had no doubt in my heart that he would come. I gave him a choice, just as I should have given him. I think I really tried to show our sincerity, at least to make him stop and think, and to give me some face. Maybe; maybe not what I expected. I think I want it now, just like he does. I took a deep breath and relaxed. I knew I couldn't fall asleep before he came. I looked at the clock. Almost an hour had passed; he should be ready to come find me. (Son 13 ) I'm a little reluctant to wear anything to my mother's bed. Is it appropriate to put on clothes and then take them off after climbing into her bed? I decided to sleep with her, to go to her naked. It took some courage, but I did it. I stood up and turned off the TV. I took off my pants and underwear, and after taking off my shirt, strangely enough, despite sitting there thinking about what sexy things might happen between my mom and me, my penis didn't get hard. Like I said, I wouldn't want to sleep with her on the first night. If she really wanted me to, there would be plenty of time later… I'd savor it slowly. I heard a faint sound at the door . I knew he was coming toward my bed. He glanced at me and climbed over to my side. In the dim light of the living room… I could barely see him, and damn it… he even looked naked. I admired his courage. I pulled him close, feeling his naked skin rubbing against me. God! My libido was aroused. My genitals had never felt so intensely hot, not even when I was a teenager, in the back seat of a car, where my partner had broken my hymen. I was almost going crazy. I pulled him onto me, pressed my lips to his, and tasted toothpaste. I giggled, and he laughed back. My tongue touched his, and then fucking… it felt like sex, so passionate. ? Son 14 ? I said all that about not wanting to fuck her tonight…. Bullshit… when I climbed into her bed, she stared at me like a tiger. I thought of so many things to say, to explain to her, to tell her how much I loved her, how I would love her… to save it for next time…. But I didn’t get a chance. Our lips were locked in a battle, her hands busy searching for a base on my body. She was naked too. I grabbed her waist, and she pulled my penis into her warm, wet hole. She… ah… said, “Finally…” I fucking… my penis inside her exploded immediately. I was so turned on I almost fell asleep, until that moment, our hearts were pounding. Damn… fucking amazing, the feeling inside her… for my first time, it was so amazing. After ejaculating, I grabbed her beautiful buttocks with both hands, slipped my fingers inside her sweaty ass, and buried them in the crevice, enjoying the wet, warm feeling. Damn … she had a sexy ass, and I wanted to press my face against it. I knew my dream was about to come true. My penis rubbed against her belly in the pool of semen I left behind. I was fucking deflowered, Mom. Mother 14. I don't know what I was thinking when Rob climbed into my bed, except for simple animalistic desire. I felt this was my first time, and other men didn't count; they were just sex. With my ex-husband and lover Dale… it was just sex, being their ejaculation vessel. This time, now… I'm going to have sex. I'm going to have sex with my own son anyway, and we're doing the right thing .

I felt his hands inside my ass, and I groaned and roared in his mouth. I bit his tongue and heard his painful breaths. I grabbed his back and his buttocks, and he grabbed his ass in return. I even pried open his anus, making him breathe painfully again. I laughed in his mouth and poked his anus with my finger, signaling him to get hard again, and he did, and I really laughed. He moved his head toward my chest, and I felt his mouth sucking on my nipples, which excited me

. I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled his face into my chest. His mouth was hot and wet, wet on my hard nipples. She was truly driven mad by me; there's no other way to describe her madness, and I was going crazy too. Basically, we were attacking each other. Our legs were intertwined, tangled, and colliding, and I slammed my waist against her crossed thighs, sucking on her mythical nipples. Her breasts were incredibly firm, unlike anything I'd ever seen before; the room was too dark, but I could feel her enormous areolas and nipples. It tempted me to lower my head and suckle her purplish-black nipples. I almost ejaculated then and there. I thought… how could I stop myself from ejaculating when I was inside her lovely secret hole? I wasn't even sure if I could stay inside her for long, making piston-like movements. God! I'm about to cum. My girlfriend Celeste had never had this effect on me before. I was a proper gentleman with her. I had rubbed her vulva and caressed her breasts, but she had just lay there, as if tolerating me, unlike now. My mother almost wanted to devour me alive. She flashed through my mind. I could see how much she wanted me. She was so proactive that it almost scared me. I thought she might have been holding back her desire for too long. I believed Dale hadn't satisfied her. Dale was a selfish bastard who only cared about his own pleasure. I promised myself I would give her more of what I could do. If I could, I would give her something special right now. "Damn it, this is my first time. I just wanted her to orgasm before I ejaculated, to release her sexual desire. " I desperately wanted him to fuck me hard; I craved him. I wanted to feel his penis inside me right now, in my vagina… my cunt . I rolled around, twisting my ass searching for my G-spot. After his penis came out, I pulled it back in and put it back in. His mouth left my breasts. I finally lay back on the bed, and he was on top of me. I grabbed his head and whispered in his ear, "Robert! Darling… fuck me hard… fuck! I'm almost there!" I don't know if he was shocked by my words. I had thought about how I had become so crazy, but then the feeling that flashed through my mind… I said it all. Let him feel it. His thick, hard penis scraped against the moist clitoris inside my vagina, the base of his penis and pubic hair rubbing against my clitoris. My buttocks swayed until I was almost at orgasm. I was so excited that I flung his penis out of my vagina a second time. I reached out and grabbed his penis, eagerly trying to guide it back into my vagina. "Darling, move up a little, you almost went in my ass." "Mom!" he whispered, "I'm still... a virgin..." I said, "You already did it." Finally, I felt his glans between my labia. Holding his penis between my labia, I pressed it down... into my hole. I groaned and said, "I'm not a virgin anymore." I grabbed his buttocks with both hands and pulled him towards me. I was wet down there, and his penis slid into my vagina like a piston. Damn, it felt so good. My vagina wasn't very tight, I mean, it didn't wrap around him very tightly. I've had a child, but I'm not exactly loose either. It enveloped his penis perfectly, without any gaps. When it slid into my pussy, his penis was about ten inches long and an inch wide. It felt amazing. I'd seen his penis before, it was the average size, but that night, it felt like King Kong, or a golden boy, fucking me. Whatever you want to describe it, anyway, he felt great inside me. I probably hadn't had such a satisfying penis since Rob's dad left me. It was the most satisfying one I'd ever had in my life. I think this is the standard. I pressed my lips to his, inhaling his breath into my body. My mother told me to fuck her hard, which was basically raping me, but her sexy beauty was even more pleasurable than fucking her. She held my ass, her legs clamped around my waist, crossed and hooked, and my penis soaking in her pussy was perfect. Her vagina felt like wet silk on my penis and glans, I could clearly feel it contracting rhythmically, sucking on my cock like a fish's mouth. Her legs trembled, tightly clamping my shaft. At that moment… I almost ejaculated, but for some reason, I managed to stop myself. I felt my testicles being squeezed between her buttocks and anus, rubbed against her crossed thighs, almost flattened… Damn, it was so passionate! I thrust into Mom's vagina with all my might, drenched in sweat, while Mom shook her head and screamed, begging me to stop, panting and looking at me with half-closed eyes. I held Mom, waiting for our breathing to catch up, and we looked at each other and laughed. I continued to immerse myself inside Mom, pulling out and thrusting in again. She started panting and moaning again, twisting her hips. I could see how comfortable and enjoying myself inside her. I placed my hands below her, cupping her soft, sweet buttocks, squeezing and kneading them. We were simply making simple piston-like movements of friction between her vagina and the head of my penis. I inserted my fingers, which were holding her buttocks, into her anus, and she groaned and roared loudly. I knew it was a moan of pleasure. I used my fingers and penis to thrust in and out of both her holes simultaneously—it was so cool. As she was about to climax, her legs trembling uncontrollably, I almost ejaculated as well. She was completely out of control of her emotions from being fucked by me… Damn it, she went crazy, scratching and hitting me wildly, crying and screaming. My penis left her vagina and went soft. I didn't know women could really go this crazy for sex; I thought it was just exaggerated bullshit on the internet. She dug her nails into my back, arched her head, opened her mouth, and closed her eyes. I could see she was in pain, trying to release something. When she urinated, I immediately pulled my penis out. Finally, she calmed down, spread her limbs, and kept panting. "Thank you, darling," she murmured. I smiled. Damn... I thought to myself... the whole time we made love, you were in control. I was just trying to hold on, but your madness scared me. Finally , my penis couldn't get hard anymore. I felt my legs start to cramp, and something in my lower abdomen felt like it was being squeezed very hard. I started to ejaculate... ejaculate... It was the most pleasurable release I'd ever experienced. I groaned loudly. She opened her eyes, watched me ejaculate a large amount of semen, and smiled at me. After I ejaculated the last drop, she pressed her face against mine, and we kissed for a long time. It was incredible. Mother 16 I wanted my body to make his first time special, and I did. I was a little selfish; I was doing it for my own sexual desire, but I still felt it went very smoothly. He seemed to be trying as hard as I was to please me.

When it was over, we were exhausted and just lay there panting. I remembered telling myself beforehand to take it slow with my son, and I laughed to myself: Damn, what I've wanted for years, I have now, a truly satisfying sexual partner.

Finally: Son, thank you.

Son 17
And so, later that morning, I fulfilled my greatest desire. I lay between her legs, tasting her sweet pussy with my lips. Although it tasted a little of my semen inside, it was still incredibly delicious.

And so, that's our story. We'll see what happens in the future, I think…we'll see if we can make it this way. Simply keeping it a secret will be hard work, and I want the whole world to know how proud I am of her.

But I know how things actually unfold, and nobody can know that we're just a mother and son living in the suburbs. When I'm with my mom, what we do is: it's our own business, and nobody can interfere. You can certainly respect that.

Mother 17
I know it won't be easy for us to live like a couple, but I think we've made a good start. Our relationship has a fiery passion that needs years to cool down. He's captivated by my body, and I'm just as addicted to his hardness and magnificence.

We have a strong familial bond and a combined marital love, which so far has done nothing but make it stronger. I'm confident we can last.

I have confidence in him, and most importantly, confidence in myself. We're still young, and the ongoing mother-son sex... will keep it passionate for us. I hope everyone, at least at some point in your life, can feel what we feel. I hope everyone can.
These
are just words, my fellow sex enthusiasts... If you have trouble with the words, find a competent psychologist or English teacher. This story is entirely fictional. Don't try to have sex with your mother at home; that bullshit won't happen to you. It's just a story.

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